As a child, I used to spend many Saturday afternoons in the attic of my mum’s friend, as my mum helped her preparing things for the weddings she was in charge of. On one of those long, cosy afternoons, a typewriter was put in my hands and a long-last love affair began.
Obviously, there is no logical reason to buy a typewriter these days, except for the romantic idea we so often associate with vintage things, the sweet utopia that we can travel through time and lead a different life, in Paris or London, surrounded by ingenius minds, where typewriters make sense. As if the clack-clack of the keys, by itself, could create a piece of written art.
Well, I do believe we must disregard logic sometimes and do things on a whim. For the sake of romantism and childhood memories.
Here is my Olympia Regina de Luxe, which I bought second-hand, and I plan to fill with first-hand dreams.
It’s not practical, it’s not compact, and it’s loud. I love it.